Redemption
by Sullen Shadowhawk
Summary: Percy fights to become part of his family again with a little help from the love of his life. DH compliant, probable spoilers but if you haven't read DH by now... canon
1. Prologue

_Hey people in Fanfic land, I have a story here for you that I've been tossing around for almost two years now. A collection of my favorite songs to tell the story of my favorite wayward heart, Percy Weasley. I hope you enjoy, let me know. ^_^  
~~~XoXoXo~~~  
Teagan Gnosis_

_Redemption_

Prologue

The great hall was filled with dwarfing silence, every person present feeling stunned awe and fresh grief. There, amidst the wounded, dead, and dying, the survivors were starting to realize that it was all over. The war, the long fighting, the agony was over. Somewhere in the middle of the room, the Weasley family stood weeping at their loss. Wrapped in his mother's embrace for the first time in almost two years, Percy Weasley, the wayward son, mourned for his little brother and reflected.

The war was over. It seemed a very hollow victory indeed. His family clutched at each other in grief as a they looked on Fred's body, never to laugh or joke again. George knelt at his twin's head. Percy could hardly stand to watch. They were never to be a whole family again. He had missed his so many opportunities to be a brother, a son, a friend, and now they wouldn't ever be complete again. He wished it were him instead. He was more than a little frightened that they were all wishing the same thing.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise _

For so long he'd hoped it wasn't true. He hoped against hope that it needn't come to real war. He hoped, as he'd been taught to hope, that his government, the leaders of the Wizarding world, had the right of things. It was a popular hope. Nobody _liked _the thought of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arisen. Even when it became clear that he had, Percy wanted to trust authority. He wanted to feel safe in the knowledge that the people in charge would do things right. Loving and respecting law and order as he did, he reasoned that it was better to trust to authority than to the vigilante brand of war-mongering his family had chosen. How very wrong he'd chosen.

How had he gotten so far from who he was? He'd always done what he believed was right. His parents had taught him to trust the Ministry and to follow the rules. He was a young man who needed structure and order to make sense of things. He looked up to people who had succeeded by following these principles. He was taught not to question authority.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night take these sunken eyes and learn to see that all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free_

In the end, he'd understood his folly. He knew now what he should have remembered all along. He learned that government was not always synonymous with right, and that if the ones making the rules are corrupt, that sanctity of those rules is forfeit. In the end, he'd chosen to stand with his family and fight for truth and justice. He chose to do right. Now he only wondered whether it was too little, too late.

The fighting was over now, and now the survivors would have to go on and rebuild their shaken, shattered lives. Percy was going home, and he knew what he would have to prove to his family and to himself. They had lost Fred, all of them, and regained him. He needed to show them that he could do the right thing, that it was all he'd ever tried to do. He needed to believe it himself. They would all go on, and he could only hope to make something more of himself than what he'd been. He felt like he owed it to Fred, who'd been glad, in the end, to have him back. He wanted to be worthy of his family. He wanted nothing more than to be deserving of their love.

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly into the light of the dark black night. Blackbird fly, blackbird fly into the light of the dark black night. Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.  
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_Hope I haven't made you too sad.  
Song credit, "Blackbird" by The Beatles_


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

_A man is many things, let's count them all tonight. You're letting go of strings, replacing them with light. _

The morning of Fred's funeral dawned crisp and bright. Inside the Burrow, it was quiet and subdued. Nobody made eye contact or spoke, just sat at the table feeling lost and empty. George hadn't come down at all and Percy thought it unlikely that he would at all that day, nor indeed any day in the near future. He left the bereft silence of the kitchen to see if George might talk to him.

"Leave me be," George called from behind his bedroom door as Percy knocked, "I won't come out and I don't want to talk."

"George," Percy stammered, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say, "George, if you need anything I'm here, ok?" He didn't need to be in the room to guess his little brother's reaction to that, but he heard the disbelieving snort to go with it. Hesitant to leave, he lingered outside the twins' door until George abruptly opened it before him.

"Sod off, Perce, I don't want to talk, least of all to you," he said, and promptly slammed the door again. Percy sighed and climbed the steps to his own room, feeling like a stranger in his childhood home.

_But they want the hit about the teenage take on pain, there's nothing catchy about the life of a saint, but I've got this song in my head and it's breaking me down to tears. If I scream, scream, scream about a good man's life would you ever stop and listen? Would you open up your eyes? _

_Would you scream with me, sing it sad and sweet? Say goodnight, goodbye, love. In the morning you will see..._

The funeral itself was small and utterly inadequate. There was nobody with enough words to talk about Fred and everybody knew it was like losing them both. George, who didn't go, would never be the same. Losing Fred was losing both of the twins, and the family and their close friends grieved anew.

Percy was the last person ever to make Fred laugh. He'd died smiling, and Percy had given him that. He felt like a failure, not being able to save his baby brother whom he'd watched grow up and quarreled with and taught to climb trees, and do arithmetic, and tie his shoes, but he'd given him a laugh. It seemed like bitter irony. He sat beside his mother pondering life's cruel jests and wept unabashedly as they lowered Fred's casket into the modest family plot.

Afterwards, he spoke to no one, sitting alone at the kitchen table with the cumulative grief of all his many failures and shortcomings. Nobody disturbed him. Who would, he wondered? He still felt like a stranger. A tolerated guest on someone else's pain. It was his pain, too. The pain of getting there too late, of distracting a curse Fred may have been able to dodge, for fighting against them all for so long.

_Photos keep you close with increments of light. The quiet wooden posts, the county's cold tonight._

_But they want the hit about the teenage take on pain, there's nothing catchy about the life of a saint, but I've got this song in my head and it's breaking me down to tears. If I scream, scream, scream about a good man's life would you ever stop and listen? Would you open up your eyes? _

_Would you scream with me, sing it sad and sweet? Say goodnight, goodbye, love. In the morning you will see..._

So caught up in his pain, he didn't hear George come into the kitchen.

"Oi," said George, clapping a hand onto his brother's shoulder, "sorry about earlier."

Percy heaved a sigh and wiped his streaming eyes. "Don't worry about it, I probably should've left you alone. I just..." he stalled again, still lacking the right words, "I guess I'm just trying to be there for you. Whatever that means. I've not done it enough. I've lost too many chances to be a brother to you, and to Fred, and Ron, and Ginny. I'm becoming very aware of it."

"Yeah, you great prat," George joked weakly, sighing and summoning a bottle of firewhiskey from the counter. He took a swig and handed the bottle to Percy, who sputtered and choked, then took a solid second drink.

"You want to know what gets me, Perce?" George asked, looking at the Ogden's bottle absently. Percy was silent waiting for him to continue.

"You've always been the dull one. The uptight one with the poker up your arse," Percy snorted but George kept talking over him, "and yet somehow, you got the blessing of being the last person ever to make him laugh. By right's it should've been me." He took another gulp of whiskey and slammed his fist on the table. Percy took the bottle from him and took another drink himself, wondering the same thing, and coming to the same conclusion.

"I'm sorry," George sighed after a time, wiping away fresh tears, "I'm glad you're back, I just feel cosmically ripped off and completely alone. You know, I've never really been alone? Always had Fred around. Got him a bit claustrophobic at times, but I never minded. I liked being half of a two..." he trailed off again and this time, encouraged by his near-drunkenness, Percy pulled his little brother in for a bone-crushing hug.

"You're not alone. We're all here. It's terrible, it's horrible, it's fucking miserably unfair that Fred is gone. It's never going to be the same again, but you're still here, and we're all here with you."

_I'd rip my eyes out for you. You're clinging, you're screaming at the cold. I pull you close. You're asking why it's so dark tonight. I don't know why. _

Shuddering and tear-stained, George broke the hug and left the kitchen with another squeeze of his brother's shoulder. Percy downed the remnants of the whiskey and lowered his head to the scratchy wood surface of the table. He knew he'd made a start. He'd been able to help George, at least a little bit. He would be there for him, like he should have been all along. He'd do whatever it took. He swore to himself he'd become a part of his family.

_Would you scream with me? Sing it sad and sweet. Would it make you cry? Would you finally see_

_that all your lives are moments, all your words and closeness keep you here and human, whispering tonight, and so we scream...  
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_I think this story should be finished rather quickly, I hope so, and I hope it's good reading.  
Song credit- "Scream Scream Scream" by Ludo_


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

_I watched the proverbial sunrise coming up over the Pacific, and you might think I'm losing my mind, but I will shy away from the specifics, cause I don't want you to know where I am, cause then you'd see my heart in the saddest state it's ever been. This is no place to try and live my life._

Over the following weeks, life tried to resume it's normal pace. The Ministry of Magic was running smoothly under the command of Kingsley Shacklebolt and a sense of undeniable peace pervaded the Wizarding community.

Life at the Burrow kept moving forward, too. Bill and Fleur went home to Shell Cottage, Ron and Harry began their Auror training, Ginny spent her final summer helping ensure that Hogwarts would open in time for her seventh year with much help from Hermione, and Mr. Weasley went back to work at the Ministry, with a healthy little promotion thanks to the recognition of the new Minister. George wouldn't return to his apartment or the shop yet, but he tried his best to let his family pull him through. Mrs. Weasley was more than glad to be able to keep George under her protective watch.

It seemed only Percy remained adrift. As time settled all things to routine, he realized he still had no real place among his family. With the single-minded determination he was renowned for, he tried his hardest to conform to what he thought they wanted in a son. He apologized to his father for the first time and let his mother fuss over him.

Still, it didn't seem entirely right. He felt the need to walk on eggshells around his brothers and he refused to talk shop with his father. There were many things the men did not agree on, and Percy was quite sure everyone was trying to be on their best behavior. It bothered him that things were not as they had been when he was younger, where he and his father could debate and talk like rational men with differing opinions. All the hushed niceties wore on his nerves. He still did not feel like he belonged.

_Stop right there, that's exactly where I lost it. See that line? Well I never should've crossed it. Stop right there, well I never should've said that. It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back. I'm sorry for the person I became. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change. I'm ready to make sure I never become that way again cause who I am hates who I've been. Who I am hates who I've been._

On the heels of his family's less than welcoming disposition to him, Percy made another resolution. He would go back to work for the Ministry, working this time for an honest leader deserving of his trust.

Kingsley readily agreed to give the ambitious young Weasley his former job back. It felt good, after so long, to go back to work and feel happy. He focused on his career with all of his zeal, figuring if he couldn't make up with his family that he'd excel professionally. He withdrew from them again and dove head-first into any and every project that came is way. He rarely went to his little apartment and he never spoke to anyone unless it was about his job. He didn't socialize. He refused to let himself think that he was becoming his old self again. He rationalized it to himself by remembering the rejection he'd faced. His best wasn't good enough. They didn't want him, so it made no difference who he let himself become.

One afternoon in the lift, Percy had a rather icy encounter with his father. Unbeknownst to either Weasley was the Minister standing beside them, covertly watching the tense, muted exchange. When Arthur stepped onto his own floor, Shacklebolt made his presence known with a gruff sigh.

"I never hear you talk to anyone, Percy, and then I do and it's this less-than-friendly standoff with your father. You and I have had conversations about your life and your goals, and if I may speak frankly, I think you're making a mess of things if you can't even be civil with your parents."

Percy stood silently watching the floor.

_I talked to absolutely no one, couldn't keep to myself enough and the things bottled inside had finally begun to create so much pressure that I'd soon blow up and I heard the reverberating footsteps synching up to the beating of my heart and I was positive that unless I got myself together I would watch me fall apart and I can't let that happen again. Cause then they'd see my heart in the saddest state it's ever been. This is no place to try and live my life._

"I'm going to assign you a partner, Percy. I think you need someone around to keep you level headed." The Minister said is his crisp business voice. Percy nodded in acknowledgment, still staring at the floor in shame. The Minister of Magic himself could see that he was failing, all over again. He was doing such a poor job of things they wouldn't even trust him to work alone anymore. He stepped out of the lift and berated himself internally all the way home for his numerous shortcomings.

Once more, after careful reasoning followed by not-so-careful binge drinking, he resolved to make a decent go of things. He would try and be a real person, with social skills and all. He didn't want to lose his job over it, after all.

He hoped his partner would be someone he'd want to socialize with. Maybe that would make it easier. He laughed at himself with sick ridicule as he realized how daunted he was by the idea of making friends. It was pathetic, indeed, and made him sink deeper into his comfy pit of self-loathing.

_Who I am hates who I've been and who I am will take the second chance you gave me. Who I am hates who I've been cause who I've been only ever made me so sorry for the person I became, so sorry that it took so long for me to change. I'm ready to make sure I never become that way again cause who I am hates who I've been. Who I am hates who I've been.  
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_Song credit- "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been" by Relient K_


	4. Chapter Three, part one

_Hello all! I hope I've got readers left after my much longer than anticipated delay...this life business is getting in the way of my stories... Anyway, I've split chapter three in half because it really should be two chapters with the same song. Next chapter to come shortly. ~~T.G._

Chapter Three:

The next day Percy returned to work sporting dark sunglasses and a magnificent hangover. He stopped in to the café across from the hidden Ministry for a much needed pot of black coffee. It was unlike him, but so was being overhung in the first place. He sat at the counter with his head pillowed on his arms as the smirking waitress poured his coffee.

He groaned at the sound of chimes as the café doors opened, bringing in with them a breeze that ruffled his hair. He looked up after the pleasant sensation and saw, seated beside him, a bubbly young woman he recognized as the only witch in a room full of muggles.

_I've just seen a face, I can't forget the time or place where we just met. She's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met._

"Good morning, Weasley," the young witch smiled at him, amusement playing in bright blue eyes as she watched the disheveled young Ministry official try and shake of the previous night's distractions.

"How do you know who I am?" Percy asked, downing the full contents of his cup in one gulp and lifting his sunglasses to face his present company properly. She was a little wisp of a thing, tiny and perched on the stool beside him, with an elegant bob of shining black hair and a calculating look on her pretty face. Her dress was stylish and simple, black pinstriped slacks and a black cashmere rollneck sweater with expensive and rather deadly looking high heeled shoes. She smiled at him again as he looked back to her face and he blushed, realizing his assessment of her features could not have been very discreet.

"Anyone from Hogsmeade to Diagon Alley can spot a Weasley," she answered jovially, ignoring his grimace of dismay. She wasn't sure whether it was her comment or the bitter black brew he continued to pour down his throat unmercifully, so she continued, "But you, in particular, I know because we've worked in the same department for almost three years."

Percy wandered through his muddled thoughts, trying to place a name to the face in front of him. He knew she'd looked familiar. If he was recalling correctly, he'd used to see her flittering around Fudge. "Lisle...Leighton...Lennox. Are you Lennox?"

"Indeed I am," she smiled again, "and I'm charged by the Minister to be your new partner. He said I'd probably find you here, though I must say I didn't expect to find the prompt and tidy Percy Weasley so...indisposed. Are you well?"

"In a manner of speaking, I'm quite well," Percy gave the smallest of laughs, reluctant to aggravate his pounding head, "I just need to remember that no matter what it tells me, firewhiskey is **not **my friend."

"Didn't expect you to be funny, either," she laughed, "but it's a pleasant surprise. Take this," she said, pulling out a small blue phial from a little black pouch she wore at her waist, "It's a hangover remedy."

He eyed the little phial suspiciously, but reckoned it worth the risk. He expected a nasty taste, plugging his nose against it, but found it surprisingly tasteless, only very cold and a little sharp. "What is that?" he asked, feeling much better already.

"Just a little potion I whipped up a few years ago after too many weekend common room parties. It's water concentrate, for immediate hydration, along with a couple of herbs and spells for breaking down alcohol. Nifty, huh?"

Percy just nodded his head and smiled.

_Had it been another day, I might have looked the other way and I'd have never been aware, but as it is I'll dream of her tonight _

They sat together in the little café and ate breakfast, chatting about this or that project and the new direction in which the Ministry was headed. They agreed on several major policies and he was surprised to learn that she didn't think his ideas were too orderly or wholly unnecessary, as most people did.

"Regulation of little things, for instance this thing about cauldron bottom thickness you mentioned, helps the bigger things run more effectively. It's just like learning, you start with what's easy and work your way up until it's all easy. Order and control are the surest ways to achievement," she said with a definitive nod.

"That's all I ever tried to say," came Percy's baffled reply.

She smiled at him again. "We should get to work," she said, "It's nearly ten and I suspect they'll be expecting us."

"Quite right," he agreed, "don't want to be tardy."

She gave a little tinkling giggle. "There's the proper Percy I was expecting." She was pleased when he had the grace to smile.

Together, they walked to work and continued to chat all the way to Percy's office, where they were awaited by Minister Shacklebolt.

"Good morning Weasley, Lennox, I'm glad to find you here together. I came to deliver your first team assignment. I've decided that with Ms. Lennox' experience in Public Relations and Mr. Weasley's in-depth knowledge of the goings-on here at the Ministry, that the two of you will act as goodwill ambassadors for the new Ministry to the public. This will consist of meetings, interviews, and social functions as well as inter-departmental team building and working to build a mor transparent Ministry."

Percy felt the blood drain from his face at the first mention of PR, but tried to remain composed. He knew Shacklebolt wouldn't assign him anything he truly didn't believe he could handle, and it seemed to be Lennox's area of expertise. He wondered if he'd done such a bad job as Jr. Undersecretary to the Minister that he was being replaced and let down gently. He wondered if he'd ever become Minister of Magic, and if this was a good segue. He tortured himself with doubt until he felt a tug on his shoulder. He felt himself being led to his chair, not really conscious of what was happening. Interviews. Social functions. He felt sick.

"Ms. Lennox, Mr. Weasley doesn't take change well. Will you see to it that he doesn't faint? I'll leave your assignment file here with you, but I have to be at a meeting in fifteen. Good luck."

Audrey smiled at the shell-shocked man seated to her left.

"Percy? Are you breathing?" asked Audrey, craning her face around to his with an uncanny resemblance to his owl Hermes.

"I'm...I'll be fine in a moment, just processing," he said in a faint little voice.

"Can you process and floo at the same time there, Weatherby? We've got an interview with the Quibbler that we need to be getting to and I don't really fancy being late on our very first team assignment."

"Weatherby?" He asked in the same faint voice.

"Yes, well, I worked for Fudge too, remember? I should have introduced myself to you as 'Alice, I mean Esther, Miss Lawrence.' You'd definitely have remembered me then."

_Falling, yes I am falling _...  
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song credit "I've just seen a face" by The Beatles


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